


Goner

by Awkward__Name



Category: Bastille, Bastille (Band)
Genre: Angst, Crossover, Depressing, Eventual Smut, Gay Romance, Love, M/M, Masturbation, Song: Goner, dyle - Freeform, prepare yourselves bitches-this is one fucking sad fic, sad af
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-31
Updated: 2018-08-31
Packaged: 2019-07-02 13:47:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15797775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Awkward__Name/pseuds/Awkward__Name
Summary: Hi! This is my first fic on here so please don't judge me! Also, I'm really bad at updating regularly, so, sorry. You can follow me on Tumblr at 'Awkwardly--Awkward' if you want to. As well as this, at the end of each chapter I'm gonna comment some of the songs that I listened to while I made this. Thanks!





	Goner

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! This is my first fic on here so please don't judge me! Also, I'm really bad at updating regularly, so, sorry. You can follow me on Tumblr at 'Awkwardly--Awkward' if you want to. As well as this, at the end of each chapter I'm gonna comment some of the songs that I listened to while I made this. Thanks!

Chapter I

"Rise and shine, motherfucker! It's a brand new day! Now, are you going to go out there and grab life by the-"

The articulately middle-class voice of Daniel Howell rang throughout the bedroom at exactly 5:30am sharp that morning. Exactly how it did every day. Streams of golden sunlight beamed through the double-glazed windows, illuminating the sleeping teenager's prominent facial features: his smooth, pink lips, his oversized nose, his half-open, chocolate eyes and, of course, the scruffy mop of hair that sat on his head. As well as enhancing the cosy man, the sun glanced upon his childish Star Wars blanket, which fitted perfectly around his skinny form, his ugly pair of slippers, now overpoweringly smelly from overuse, and the leather arm chair that sat in the corner of his room. It was the last thing that Dan (Smith's) mother had bought him, right before she'd left the house in a twirling tornado of fury, disgust and maybe even slight sadness.

Dan's wide eyes opened fully, taking in his surroundings. Cautiously, so that he didn't wake up his sleeping father, he sat up, letting his bed creak softly below him and stood up, feet instantly sliding into those disgusting slippers. He'd bought them several years ago at the market square in Birmingham. At the time he'd been visiting very distant relatives, whom he had nothing in common with, but, luckily, his close friend, Brendon, had been up from America at the time and was happy the visit

_"Dan! Look at these fucking ugly slippers that I found!" Brendon shouted at the top of his lungs in a sing-song voice, easily outranking the many stall owners around them in terms of volume. After hearing the sudden outburst of the young one, the man selling the footwear gave him a filthy look, scowling deeply into the back of the boy's navy hoodie, slung low over his shoulders. Brendon never did know when to shut up._

_Slowly and slightly timidly, Dan tiptoed over to his best- and only- friend, peering over the heads' of many other pedestrians who were also stopping by to browse and purchase the items on display. Propped up on a rusty cake stand were two of the ugliest shoes Dan had ever had the displeasure of viewing. Okay, so the pattern wasn't too bad. Tartan. However, they were drenched in muddy water, covered in holes, probably from rats or something and smelt like a mixture of blue cheese that's been left out for 2 weeks, warm horse manure and rotting eggs. In fact, Dan had to turn away to stop himself from throwing up from the putrid stench. Whoever used to own these must have had some real body odour._

_Brendon grinned wildly as he watched Dan's hilarious reaction. ._

_"You should buy them Dan. They match your eyes." Brendon giggled, leaning up against a brick wall._

_"Mate, do my eyes look like a rotting banana?"_

_"Yes!"_

_Dan playfully cuffed at Brendon's arm, causing the latter to femininely giggle again and to back away a couple of steps._

_"Even Ryan wouldn't wear those!" Dan complained, eyeing up the torn fabric._

_Ryan was Brendon's current boyfriend, having been with Dan's best friend for over 8 months, was it? Brendon loved everything about Ryan, apart from one thing. His terrible dress sense._

_"Too late! I'm getting them for you!" Brendon let out an evil gargoyle cackle before diving into the crowd, away from a curiously annoyed Dan._

_"No! Don't Bren!" Brendon bought the shoes anyway._

Dan sighed lightly, remembering the good old days. He really missed Brendon. However, he knew that getting that record deal in America with Ryan was the best pathway for him, considering he has never tried particularly hard in school-music was his real passion- and Dan couldn't be more proud of his best mate. Even if it meant that he could only visit for a week every year.

Anyway, back to life.

Dan slid into the bathroom, realising that he'd already spent 10 minutes reminiscing on the good ol' days and that it had drastically eaten into his regular Monday morning routine. In record time, he scrubbed his teeth, used the toilet, washed his face and put on heavy layers of deodorant. Dan never liked to shower in the mornings- he always felt like they were much more enjoyable, relaxing and less rushed when done straight after a hard days work. Suddenly he leapt out of the bathroom, estimating he only had 5 minutes until he had to leave, give or take a few minutes, if he wanted to stay on schedule, which he desperately did.

Seconds later, Dan had flung on the first clothing items that he could find, which happened to be a pair of used-to-be-skinny-jeans, that were now baggy from overuse and a plain white t-shirt with a terrifying skull on the front, it's strange, toothless smile giving Dan the chills. Dan didn't even have time to think about breakfast when a voice streamed through the room once more, this time being Phil Lester's, signalling that it was time to leave.

'Lady, lady, come in my ladydoor! Lady-'

"Shut the fuck up, mate!" Dan muttered, before racing down the stairs as quickly as possible.

He made it to his car, a bright-red Volkswagen Golf, which was a present from his father ,about 5 years ago. It was just after Dan's mother had left and his father was feeling guilty about the sudden change in their lives. There was no one to make Dan dinner. No one to kiss him better. No one to hug him goodnight. So, Dan's father had piled together all the money he could, often staying overtime at work to earn the extra pound or two and had soon saved enough to buy his only child the cheap, half-broken vehicle. Dan still remembered that moment when his father surprised him with it.

_"Daniel? Th-there y-y-you a-a-are. I've g-g-got a s-s-s-surprise for y-you." Dan's father stuttered as he entered the teenagers bedroom. Dan was sat at his rickety wooden desk, doing what seemed like revision for his upcoming GCSE examinations, although his father expected that his child was secretly just writing song lyrics under the table._

_Dan stood up, towering over his rather short dad. He let his father lead the way, taking in the stumbling mess of a man. Ever since Dan's mother left, his father had never been the same. His glowing brown locks had been reduced the grey threads from the stress and his eyes had a glassy look in them, with bags hanging underneath them from lack of sleep. Dan's father was broken._

_Dan was led outside, to their ramshackled front yard. Neither of Dan's parents had ever enjoyed gardening and it showed- ivy grew high up the fence between their garden and their neighbours' and weeds smothered any flower that had ever had a chance at peeking through the jungle._

_However, it wasn't the dreadful garden that Dan was staring at. It wasn't the cracked pavement. It wasn't the smashed windows or the overgrown grass or the dying leaves from the trees. It was the Volkswagen Golf that stood in front of him, proudly showing off its glossy aftercoat. Dan just stared at it, dumbstruck._

__

_"N-now, I know i-it's n-n-not m-much and it's a b-bit o-o-old and r-rusty, b-but it's all I c-c-c-could a-afford and-" Dan's father began, before Dan cut him off with a bear hug._

__

Dan jumped out of his daydream when he realised the time. 5:58. Shit. 2 minutes to get to his scheduled place. He started the car and the engine whined in despair. Why now? In a sudden fit of fury, Dan yanked at the gear stick and the car began to roll forwards at a snails pace. 

Thanks to the fact that there was absolutely no traffic on the roads, Dan was able to drive to his destination within a minute. He abruptly stopped the vehicle on a double yellow line, leaped out and ran up to his usual coffee shop, arms flailing wildly as he desperately attempted to keep to his tight schedule. 

It was a family owned business, the coffee shop, which went by the name of Clarabella's tea room, after the owner's great great grandmother, the one who had actually set the business sailing. Dan had been going here for over 5 years now and knew all the staff and the regulars. In fact, he had his own designated table, right by the window, which his favourite waitress, Sarah, set aside for him each day. Dan had never meant to visit this place at all- in fact he had thought it hadn't looked rather girly. But, he had needed to get out of the house, seeing as this was around the time that his mother had left. Dan's dad hadn't been behaving like he used to- he'd been more withdrawn and emotional than normal, after he'd bought Dan that car and Dan needed to escape all of that for a few hours every morning. As Dan strode in with 12 seconds to spare he noticed two things that had changed since hes last visited. One being that the baby blue paint that covered the front of the building was fading away, leaving the remains of a cracked brick wall. He'd already forgotten what the 2nd thing was. So had the author of this fic, but that doesn't matter. I love breaking the fourth wall :) 

Man, he really loved this place. Although it looked quite feminine and frilly from the outside, putting off judging strangers from ever setting foot in the long-running establishment, the inside was far from that. Actually, the place gave off a kind of shy hipster vibe. The walls had not been painted- they were left as long, broken planks of wood, as were the floorboards. In fact, everything in the place was made of wood, the few oak, round tables that were scattered throughout the large room, the pine barstools, which would have been uncomfortable, apart from the fact that the tops of them were covered in a soft, smooth, bright-red fabric that vividly reminded Dan of his early childhood, when he used to walk around in the pouring rain with his little sister, playing until their cheeks were flushed from the biting wind and they'd run back indoors and sit in front of the burning red fire, the same colour as the bar stools, warming their freezing feet against the open flames. She'd moved out last year with her boyfriend, into a pokey flat, leaving Dan with his half-broken father and heartlessness mother. Even the coffee mugs were made of incredibly thick Beech wood. The walls were hardly visible, with all the Vinyls, band posters and coats covering them up. The comforting smell of coffee filled Dan's nostrils, flowing through his bloodstream and instantly making him more alert. 

"Danny! Welcome back baby!" Shoutes the silly, high-pitched voice that first greeted Dan as he entered it, immediately shattering the peaceful atmosphere. A few people looked up at the sudden loud noise as Dan stared at his feet, suddenly wishing that he was anywhere but here. 

"I thought I told you not to call me that, Clara." He mumbled, barely audible against the mixture of strangers chatting, loud music, this time 'Mama' by My Chemical Romance, and coffee machines whirring away at their next challenge. Oh god, why did she have to be here today?! 

The girl really didn't fit in with the atmosphere. Everyone there was either a punk, an emo or Dan, not a slutty 18 year old girl who's seemed determined to fuck Dan, and had done for several years. It was as though she'd known that Dan would be here today and had worn the most revealing outfit possible. A strapless dress in silver, made of a silky fabric hugged her curvy body, making her look like she was going on a first date, rather than serving at an alternative bar. Her feet were uncomfortably poised on 5 inch heels, which matched her dress perfectly and made her tower over Dan, even though, without them, she'd be tiny. Her fingernails had obviously had hours spent on them, being manicured, filed and painted a baby-pink kind of colour, which miraculously suited her outfit quite well. Makeup smothered her face: thick layers of mascara weighed down her eyelashes, bright red lipstick had been forced onto her lips and a mysterious grey eyeshadow suffocated her eyelids. In fact, Dan had never seen her without makeup on. Ever. Even her hair was done to perfection, in a not-so-messy bun behind her head, every copper curl that had sprung lose held in with a golden pin. Dan had to admit it; she looked good, just a little too try-hardy for his tastes. Besides, he didn't even like girls. I suppose that's why his mother left. 

Dan stared awkwardly at the girl as she strutted over to him, making sure to stick her chest out as far as humanly possible, making him cringe. She was just about to press herself against him when a loud voice interrupted her. 

"Clara! Get over here and clear this table! Now!" Called the voice, which was luckily Dan's friend, Sarah. Clara let out one last overdramatic sigh, gave Dan one last longing gaze and was swept away with the wind, swinging her ass wildly, attempting to give Dan something to think about while she was away, but failing miserably 

Dan collapsed onto the table nearest to him, breathing heavily in relief. Man, he hated that girl. Didn't she get the hint already?! Within seconds, Sarah had strode over to her close friend and passed him a steaming hot cup of black coffee, no sweetener needed. 

Sarah was actually Clara's older sister, by 2 years, although you'd never have thought it. They were completely different in appearances and personalities. Sarah had a slightly chubby face, which enhanced her cute dimples, which appeared whenever she smiled, which was quite often. Unlike her younger sibling, Sarah dressed professionally for work, wearing black skinny jeans and a long sleeved, blue and white, off-the-shoulder top, which made her freckled skin stand out. She had plain Vans on her feet and wore absolutely no makeup, whichever suited her well. Her platinum blonde hair was practically tied back in a short ponytail. 

"How are you, Dan?" She asked, leaning casually against his table as he sipped his coffee.

"I'm alright Sarah. Just tired. It's just- oh shit! Is that the time?!" Dan spat out, glancing at the antique clock on the wall, which read 8:50am. Where did the time go?! "Sorry Sarah, I've got work!" 

"It's okay Dan. Just stop by tomorrow, yeah." She said calmly as Dan gulped down the remainder of his drink and dashed out the the door, letting it slam shut with a loud bang. Man, he'd really wanted to have a nice, long chat with Sarah. If only he'd had the time.

By the time he'd reached work he was 5 minutes late, not like his boss actually cared anyway. It was just a record shop. 

"Hey Danny." Called Josh from the counter. >/p>

"You alright mate?" Replied Dan, although he secretly wished that Josh's wouldn't use nicknames like that, or any at all, but didn't want to offend his friend by bringing it up. 

"Not bad thanks." Josh said neutrally, not giving anything away. Dan stared at him suspiciously, sensing that's something was up. Suddenly, Josh's straight face broke into a smirk. "But guess what! Boss dude said that, since it's a Tuesday and nobody's due in, we can play the instruments!" 

Dan smiled for the first time that day, a small, nervous, sweet thing. The massive room was full of high quality instruments, string, woodwind, brass, percussion. They had the lot in this little London store. Dan ran to the nearest keyboard, a relatively large thing with a ton of different buttons. Man, Dan would kill for one of these at home. If only he had enough money. Still, he plugged his personal headphones in and let the music take him away for the first time in days, the smooth melodies pulling him away from the harsh reality that he lived in. It was quite relaxing, listening to his fingers tapping against the hard plastic keys, his slightly croaky, but soft voice drawing him in, making him want more.

"Dan! Time to go!" Called a whiny American accent. Josh ran his hands through his flaming red hair, waiting for Dan to come back down to Earth. His trench coat was already on and he was tapping his foot anxiously, wanting to leave. Then Dan realised. His boyfriend, Tyler, was probably waiting outside. And Josh wanted to see him.

"Sure." Dan fake grinned "Ill be right out. You go with Tyler and I'll see you next shift, yeah?" 

Josh cheerfully obliged, almost skipping as he swung open the door, revealing his short little boyfriend. Dan just caught a glimpse of them embracing, not caring in the slightest about the buckets of rain that were tipping down on their heads, before the door slammed shut once more, leaving Dan in the shop. 

Dan was slowly beginning to realise something. It had snuck into his thoughts a while ago, sleeping comfortably at the back of mind, until recently, when it forced it's way to the front, demanding his attention. Brendon had left for America, ditching Dan for Ryan without a second thought, not caring how his best friend felt whatsoever, just about the man he adored. Just like now, when Josh had completely ignored the fact that's Dan was still in the shop, with no way to lock up or protect the store from being burgled, so that he could see the man he adored. Love was all around Dan. 

And he was alone.

  
__

**Author's Note:**

> Friend, Please- Twenty Øne Pilots  
> Ocean Eyes- Billie Eilish  
> You Should See me in a Crown- Billie Eilish (you have no idea how many times 'Eilish' was autocorrected to 'Eli jag'. God, it would be embarrassing if it turns out that I actually spelt Eilish wrong anyway)  
> The Weight of Living Pt I- Bastille  
> Pied Piper- BTS  
> Growing Pains- Super Junior d&e (Kpop somehow found my repressed emo spirit, also, 'emo' keeps autocorrecting to emofhskcjeofbe. Don't ask)  
> High Hopes- Panic! At the Disco  
> Sarah Smiles- Panic! At the Disco  
> Snakes- Bastille


End file.
